


Tipping Point

by prairiecrow



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Possessiveness, Public Claiming, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian's journey from obliviousness to amazement, writ quick and small.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tipping Point

Julian Bashir is beautiful in a way that's practically criminal and devastatingly intelligent in ways that are literally illegal, but he knows that sometimes he misses things. And fairly important things, in some cases.

He absolutely cannot miss this, though: the way the Cardassian spy is flirting with him. It's there in every lingering gaze (that he can't look away from), in every warmly inflected word (that thrills up and down his spine), in every insinuating smile (that makes him blush down to the soles of his feet) — and it's definitely there in the pressure of firm grey hands on his shoulders, holding him in place when he almost leaps out of his seat in response to the electric shock of the contact. When it's finally over he stares after Garak for a long moment with pounding heart and mouth gone dry, before scrambling erect and high-tailing it down to Ops to tell  _someone_  what's just happened.

Much later, Jadzia will tell him that she's seen schoolgirls who were less giddy after catching sight of their first crush, and Miles will gruffly mutter: "Huh! Took you long enough." And Julian will ask them why they didn't say something at the time, and will get no satisfactory answer beyond a mysterious smile from one and a preoccupied grunt from the other. 

"Would it have helped?" Garak will ask, and Julian will have to admit that the answer was: probably not, because he hadn't been ready. He hadn't known enough about Cardassians, and he hadn't grown up enough to encompass a view of himself that included that sort of responsiveness. He had still been "the ladies man", a self-image that he managed to cling to for a remarkably long time considering how busily Garak had devoted himself to chipping away at it, sliver by clever sliver.

*********************

By the time the affair with Tahna Los is over, he's convinced himself that one of two things is happening here: that such behaviour is not really flirtatious at all in Cardassian terms and that he's misreading the situation completely, or that Garak (an obviously playful fellow) is having him on. Of course that must be it — or possibly both. Garak is, after all, a complex and enigmatic individual, and clearly bored out of his mind in the limited scope of Deep Space Nine. Surely it won't hurt to let him have his bit of fun? No, of course not. In either case, it's not like he's  _serious_ , after all.

This comforting delusion gets Julian through the next six months worth of fascinating lunches and pitiful Cardassian war orphans, but as it turns out, no further.

*********************

What changes is neither Garak nor himself, but a third party: specifically the arrival on the station of a delegation of ambassadors from the Gamma Quadrant, among them a tall broad bodyguard called Zerhilde who takes a real shine to Julian — a warmth of sexual feeling that is definitely not reciprocated. Julian stammers through the first approach, acts cool through the second, and is sharp during the third, which takes place in Quark's in full view of about fifty people. Unfortunately his disinterest, no matter how eloquently expressed, cuts no ice with the gentleman in question, who steps right up to Julian and catches hold of his upper arms in a hard grip, smiling a thin blade of a smirk and looking like he's about to try to kiss him, or perhaps to bite him with all those small sharp fishlike teeth.

Julian is gathering himself to break free of that unwanted grasp when Zerhilde's gaze shifts past him — and the man's charcoal grey face goes about two shades paler in the space of a heartbeat, the vestigial gills on his throat flaring. At that same instant conversation dies among the bar patrons in Julian's immediate vicinity, and Julian scarcely has time to wonder what the hell's going on when a familiar voice from perhaps two metres behind him says, clearly and loudly: "Good evening, Doctor! Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

The tone of those silky words is pleasant. The undercurrent is pure menace. And Julian suddenly realizes, with perfect certainty, that he's caught between two men who fancy him, and that the situation is maybe three breaths away from exploding into violence: he has no idea how members of Zerhilde's species react to threats to something they consider their property, but he's learned that Cardassians are notoriously territorial creatures and that the savagery of their mating conflicts is legendary. 

The realization isn't half as much of a shock as he would have thought it should be. He can feel Garak's possessiveness embrace him like a Corvatan betrothal collar around his throat — and he finds, to his even greater amazement, that he doesn't mind being thus bound.

For two seconds the whole bar holds its collective breath, and Julian doesn't dare move for fear of tipping tensions over the edge. Then Zerhilde releases him and takes a long step back, bobs his head sullenly in Garak's direction, and strides away onto the Promenade, shouldering a couple of patrons roughly aside as he gives Garak a wide berth. 

At last Julian dares to breathe again. He's shrugging his shoulders and tugging on his uniform jacket to get it to sit properly again when a much softer voice speaks almost in his ear: "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Turning his head to meet Garak's gaze, Julian sees an odd mix of emotions there: gentleness and concern, yes, but also the gleam of a deadly steel blade still ready to taste blood. He has no doubt that if he said "Actually, he did," Garak would make certain that the bodyguard paid a suitable price. 

Instead he responds: "No, no, I'm fine," and this time when Garak's gaze lingers too long he meets it squarely. 

And he smiles in kind. 

THE END


End file.
